


A Mom for Christmas

by TammyRenH



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spn_j2_xmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TammyRenH/pseuds/TammyRenH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is home alone at Christmas time (as Dad and Dean are on a hunt) when he stumbles upon a monster that preys on children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mom for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leighannwallace](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=leighannwallace).



 

**Sam at 6**

At first, Sam was so very happy about finally getting to go to school.   He got to ride the bus, which was cool and he always got to sit with Dean.  He no longer had to stay at home with Pastor Jim or Uncle Bobby or an endless succession of babysitters who Sam knew, even as young as he was, were way more interested in Sam’s Daddy then in Sam.  He couldn’t wait to get to school every day and to learn new things and maybe even be a teacher’s pet which sounded kinda nice.

But after the first week, school turned out to be a bit disappointing.  Sam was six, and as such was the oldest kid in kindergarten.  And they were learning their ABC’s and 123’s and all that itsy bitsy baby stuff than Sam had learned years ago.  He could spell his whole name, he could actually read quite a few words, and Dean joked that Sam was better at math than he was.  And here he was, forced to listen as his teacher patiently explained the difference between a big letter B and a small letter b to his clueless classmates.  Sometimes he could almost see why Dean didn’t like school.

But recess was fun, and art and music was fun and as fall turned into winter and the kindergarten class started edging pass the alphabet into actual forming words, Sam began to like it more.  He even had two best friends, Gavin and Brett.  And sometimes, Dad even let him go to one of their houses to play.  It was Sam’s favorite thing to do.  They both lived in actual houses, instead of hotels and tiny apartments.  They had their own rooms which were filled with more toys than Sam had ever seen outside of a toy store.  And best of all, they had a Mom. 

Sam was fascinated by their Moms.  Fascinated how their Moms were always fussing with them, checking to see if they brushed their teeth or had their gloves on before they went out and played.  Brett’s Mom was the best, Sam’s absolute favorite.  She laughed a lot, she was always really listening to Brett and she always had his favorite snack ready for when he got home from school.   She cooked dinner every night, and she always insisted that Sam eat seconds.   Sometimes she called Sam “poor boy” which Sam at first thought was because he didn’t have any money, which he didn’t, but Brett told him it was because he didn’t have a Mom, which he also didn’t.  Sam was beginning to think a Mom would be a cool thing to have, even cooler than being in school.

Sam had a Mom once, he had seen the pictures.  They were mostly pictures of her with Dad and Dean, and she was always smiling and she would be touching them or hugging them the way Brett’s Mom hugged Brett.  If Dad and Dean weren’t looking, sometimes Sam would pull one of the pictures out of Dad’s wallet and look and look but no matter how much he looked he could never remember her.  Dean almost never got mad at Sam, but if he saw him looking at the pictures he would get mad and take the pictures away from him.  Sam knew it was because the pictures made Dean sad.  Sam thought they made Dad sad too, because once he had woken up in the middle of the night and Dad had all of the pictures on his bed and he looked like he might have been crying.  Sam wasn’t sure, because Dad was big and tough and he had never seen Dad crying before.  But he might have been.

Looking at the pictures didn’t make Sam sad, though he thought maybe he should be.  It just made him want a Mom.  Everyone else in the whole kindergarten class had a Mom.  A few didn’t have Dads, because their Dads went away and one little boy said he didn’t even know who his Dad was which didn’t make sense to Sam because how could you not know who your Dad was?  But all of them had Moms.

In two weeks it would be Christmas.  Sam wanted very much to go to Pastor Jim’s house because Pastor Jim always had a tree and the only time Santa had ever found them was when they were there.  No matter where they were Sam and Dean always had presents to open at Christmas, well at least one present, but one time when they were at Pastor Jim’s house Sam had five presents.  Gavin already had 12 presents with his name under the big tree at Gavin’s house, Sam thought five was very reasonable to want.

But Dad didn’t say anything about going to Pastor Jim’s and Dean didn’t either so it didn’t look like Sam was getting five presents this year. 

The teacher at school had told them to all write letters to Santa, that she would help them with the words they didn’t know.   She wrote “Dear Santa” on the chalkboard and Sam dutifully copied the words on his paper.  And then he was stuck. Maybe he could ask for five things, but he couldn’t think of five things he wanted.  They had to move so much and it was hard to carry everything in and out of all those new places so they didn’t have many things.   He had little cars which he didn’t really like playing much with.  He had a magic set but he wasn’t good at it.  Sam knew there was something he should want, all the other kids had their hands up and were asking how to spell “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” and “Slinkys” and “video games” and all kinds of words and Sam’s list was blank.

Then he knew what he wanted, and better yet he thought he knew how to spell it.  “Do you think maybe you cud bring me a Mom becas I think having one wold be nice, Sinserely, Sam.” And that’s what he turned in.   He stood in from of Mrs. Turner’s desk and thought maybe he did it wrong because when Mrs. Turner read it, her smile went away.   Feeling like he had somehow been bad, Sam went back to his desk and worried the rest of the day.

After supper that night, Dad pulled the letter out of his pocket. Sam had no idea how Dad had ended up with it, last time he had saw it the letter was in the pile designated for the North Pole.  Sam begin to feel nervous, and looked over to Dean but Dean was busy watching some football game on their dinky TV set and wasn’t paying attention.  Sam turned back to his Dad.

Dad walked over to where Sam was. “You know it doesn’t work this way right?   You know you can’t wish for a Mom and Santa wraps one up for you and delivers her to your house on Christmas Eve?”

Sam had a desire to point out he didn’t have a house, but knew better than to say it.  Instead he just nodded his head.

“So, why did you ask for one?”

Sam didn’t know what to say.   Dean was now listening and Dad was looking right at him, and he was very sorry he had wrote the letter.  “Everyone else has one.”  He began tentatively “And they cook and they make Christmas trees and they make your bed and there are cookies.  I just thought, you know, if we all had a Mom – “

Dean was suddenly at his side, and he was angry.  This upset Sam more than Mrs. Turner’s frown.  “You already have a Mom.  She was the best Mom ever.  Why would you ever want a different one?”

Sam was crying now, nothing was worse than Dean being mad at him.

“Dean, calm down.”   Dad said to his oldest son.  “I am sure Sam didn’t mean any disrespect to Mary.  Right son?”

Sam, beyond words, shook his head. 

“I wish you just stop with all this Mom stuff.”  Dean said to his brother. “Don’t you know that we miss her like all the time and you talking about wanting to replace her just makes it worse?”

This time Sam managed a few words even thought he had to sniffle his way through them.  “I miss her too.”

“You.  Don’t.  Even.  Remember.  Her.”  Dean shouted and then went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Dean never yelled at him.  Dad did sometimes, when he needed yelling at he guessed.  But even when Dean was mad at him, he never yelled. 

Sam felt like the world had come to an end.  All he wanted was for this awful day to be over, for Christmas to be over. 

Dad ruffled his hair before giving him back the letter.  “He’ll be fine.  Let’s just cool it with the Mom stuff okay?”

Sam took the letter and ripped it into a lot of little pieces which he tossed in the trash.  Sam was never ever even going to say the word Mom again.

Dean didn’t come out of the bathroom all night, Sam could hear sounds from in there like something was being kicked and after a long while water running.  He meant to stay up until Dean came out so he could say how sorry he was, but the day’s events had worn him out and he fell asleep fully clothed in the bed.

Sometime much later Sam woke to find Dean asleep beside him.   Dean had placed two cookies on his pillow.  They were store bought, not homemade but they made Sam happier than any homemade cookies ever could.   He gobbled them down, leaving crumbs all over the pillow and the bed but he knew Dean wouldn’t care.  Facing his brother, Sam closed his eyes again and fell back to sleep.

**9 years later**

Sam pulled his long legs underneath him as he sat on the floor.  He watched as Dad and Dean prepared for their hunt.  There were weapons to be checked, Dad packed his journal, Dean took a sniff of the shirt he had picked up off the floor and gave a shrug as it went into his backpack.

Sam, of course, didn’t have to worry about packing because once again he would be left behind.

“I don’t understand why I can’t go too.”  Sam spoke to his father, but his eyes were on Dean.

“How many times do we have to go over this?”  Dad asked, that tone that said ‘back off’ in his voice.  “You aren’t ready.”

Sam recognized the tone, he just chose to ignore it.  “Dean went hunting with you when he was much younger than fifteen.” 

Dad dropped his flashlight into his backpack and turned to face his youngest son.  “Dean took his training seriously.   Dean was prepared.    If it was possible to kill a wendigo by studying it to death, you’d be in.  But since it’s not – “

“I train,” Sam replied defensively.  “I’m as good a shot as Dean.”  Dean turned around, ready to say something and Sam added hurriedly.  “Almost.”

“I don’t understand why we have to have this same damn argument – “Dad began, but the tirade was blessedly interrupted by the ringing of the phone. 

As Dad went to answer the phone, Dean walked over and put his hand on Sam’s shoulders.  “Look Sammy, I know it sucks being left behind, but you don’t want to go out there, really you don’t.  Plus, don’t you have that math geeky thing this weekend?”

“The quiz bowl,” Sam responded, knocking Dean’s hand off his shoulder and trying very hard not to smile.  “Like you care if I participate in a quiz bowl or not.”

“Sure I do ‘cause they are such a good time.   So you stay here and do your math thing and we’ll be back before you know it.”  Dean looked over at Dad who was still talking on the phone.  He bent down close to Sam’s ear and whispered, “Dad says I can go out solo on the next easy one, probably a ghost deal.  Play your cards right, and I’ll take you with me.  Just do me a favor and don’t get him angrier before we head out, it’s me who has to listen to him rage for miles.”

Sam stood up, he had grown something like six inches in the last year and although Dean would never admit it, he was now taller than Dean.  And still growing.  “Deal.”

Two days later Dad and Dean had arrived in Clovis, California and Sam was wandering through the apartment alone.  They had been here in Cape Girardeau, Mo for three months now, which is about as long as they stayed anywhere.  Sam could tell that Dad was itching to move on, but he was hoping to stay a while longer.  It would be awesome to finish the school year out here, but May was still five months away and Sam knew Dad would never stay around that long.

They had come here about a case (which unless they were spending time with Pastor Jim or with Bobby was their only reason for going anywhere.)  A child had disappeared close to where they were living now, and something seemed hinky about it to Dad.  The girl was young, almost 13, and the authorities treated it like a runaway case but the parents were adamant that running away was something their little girl would never do. Sam had done some research and found out that other children had gone missing in the last four or five years, ranging from just three months old to almost 17 years old.  Some of the kids were the product of the foster system or alcoholic parents and were probably actual runaways, but others came from good stable homes and had bright futures and their whole lives in front of them and all of that crap.  After a lot of research (from Sam and Dad, Dean never did research unless it was related to finding out the phone number of the cute part-time librarian) Dad had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t a monster that had taken the children, at least not the kind of monster that Dad was interested in.   The police still hadn’t come up with a suspect for any of the disappearances but Dad had lost interest.  A human couldn’t lead Dad to the thing that killed his wife, so he left the investigation to the police.

Sam was in his last week of school before Christmas vacation started.  Tonight, there was going to be a practice quiz bowl at Mr. and Mrs. Foster’s house.  The Fosters were the parents of Sam’s best friend Josh, and Mr. Foster was the school Algebra teacher and was also in charge of the school’s quiz bowl team.  But, of course, it was Mrs. Foster that Sam found himself fascinated with because that was something that had never changed for Sam, he just no longer talked about it.

Best of all, Mrs. Foster seemed to really like Sam.  She always seemed happy to see him, she even hugged him when he came over, which made Sam feel strange but also kinda safe and warm.  She was interested in what he was doing, what he was studying in school, what books he was reading.  Mrs. Foster had an amazing library just full of all kinds of books, Sam had spent many hours in that library and there were always cookies to eat and soda or, now that it was cold, hot chocolate to drink.  And tonight Mrs. Foster had promised she’d make tacos, and Sam loved tacos.

He headed out of the apartment, being sure to lock the door behind him.  Not that there was anything in that trashy apartment worth stealing, but it was more out of habit than anything. It was a walk of several blocks, and it was bitterly cold. It didn’t take long for Sam to wish he had worn a coat instead of his brother’s old hand me down leather jacket.

The Foster’s home was everything that the Winchester’s dinky apartment was not. It was warm, welcoming, and neat –but not one of those stuffy ‘everything in its proper place’ houses that Sam had visited in the past, the kind you were afraid to touch anything.  This house had a lived-in inviting feel to it. Mrs. Foster worked as a bookkeeper for a local business, and she mostly worked at home so almost every time Sam went to visit she was fussing around the house.  Working part time also gave her time to travel with the quiz bowl team, she was on the parent/teacher committee at school (a committee that Sam could just imagine his father joining) and volunteered in the school library.  In her ‘spare’ time, she knitted, played bridge and she loved to bake.  Besides Josh they had two other children Grace who was 14, also on the quiz bowl team, and definitely not one of Sam’s biggest fans, and their ‘oops’ baby Christy who was five and to add mayhem to the confusion there were two dogs, one cat, a gerbil, a pair of doves that were named Sonny and Cher and a turtle that lived under Josh’s bed. It was pure chaos in that home, and Sam loved every moment he spent there.

Tonight it was going to be even more crowded because along with the usual suspects, Sam and the other six members of the quiz bowl team were going to be there. Sam knocked on the Foster’s front door, and stomped his feet on the porch as he waited for someone to answer it. “Oh lucky day, you’ve come back.” Grace snarked before returning to her giggling classmates on the living room couch.

Sam took a look around the room, it was always a nice cozy space but now it just glowed, all decked out for Christmas.  There was a huge (real) tree in the middle of the room, adorned with some very nice glass and ceramic ornaments mixed in with obviously child-created snowmen and stars, a string of popcorn circled the tree and around everything hung a red and green construction paper garland.   Sam thought it was glorious.  There were lights on the tree and around the windows. There were snow globes on the shelf over the fireplace and pictures of snowmen and Santas on the wall. In front of the trio of giggling girls, there was a poinsettia on the coffee table.

Destiny, a girl that happily followed wherever Grace led, was the second of the twittering trio but it wasn’t her that had Sam’s interest.  It was the third girl on the couch, a girl with chestnut hair down to her waist and the prettiest blue eyes Sam had ever seen. Tori was the new kid (how Sam relished the fact that he had stayed in one place long enough to be usurped as the new kid), she was prettier than the other girls and smart too – if Sam didn’t watch it she would totally take over his star status on the team. Heaven knows what she thought about Sam, as Sam had never managed to speak a whole sentence to her without tripping over half the words. Sam gave a small wave in the girls’ directions and it was Tori that waved back. Sam could feel his face flushing.

Mrs. Foster entered the room, carrying glasses full of soda for the couchers. “Hey Sam, I didn’t see you come in,” She went over to Sam, and hugged him, as carefully as she could with three glasses of liquid in her hands. “Do you need anything? We have coke, pepsi, tea?”

Sam, not trusting himself to speak in Tori’s presence, just shook his head.

“Well if you change your mind, you know where everything is. Dinner will be in about thirty minutes, Josh and the boys are in his room if you want – “

Sam didn’t even let her finish, he took the steps two at a time heading up the stairs.  On his way to Josh’s room, he looked into the first bedroom on his right which was Mr. Foster’s.  Mr. Foster was straightening his tie and smiled at Sam as he passed by.   Sam didn’t know much about married couples, obviously, but he thought it was kinda weird that Mr. Foster had his own bedroom and Mrs. Foster had her own across the hallway.  He guessed maybe Mr. Foster snored a lot.  Anyway it was nice that they lived in such a big house that everyone could have their own bedroom, even the parents.

After dinner (the tacos were good, the brownies even better), Sam and the others gathered once again in the living room to begin practice. As Mrs. Foster passed Josh on her way in front of the coffee table, she kissed him on the top of his head. Josh huffed and Mrs. Foster laughed. “Don’t let him fool you,” She said to Sam, “He loves it when I do that. Especially when there are girls around.”

“Mom!” Josh said, with an embarrassed look at the ever-giggling girls. “I thought we agreed you were going to behave yourself tonight.”

“Yeah about that.” Mrs. Foster answered back with a wink as she made her way to the front of the room. “I lied.”

Josh gave Sam a stricken look.  “Mothers,” he said as a way of explanation.

Sam felt an ache in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with putting too much hot sauce on his tacos. But the ache was very familiar and he knew now how to ignore it. 

“So before we start, I need to know how many of you already have rides for Saturday.”  Mrs. Foster stated as she opened up her notebook.

Sam didn’t even look around, but he could feel hands being raised all around him as kids explained that their mother, or father, or both would be taking them.  Heck, even Gary who was just an alternate and whose elderly grandparents were raising him, chimed in that his grandma wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

“Okay good, so we luck out and get to take Sam, and we’ll meet the rest of you there” Mrs. Foster made a note and then stepped out of the room to see what was keeping her husband.

In front of him Grace whispered to Destiny loudly enough so she knew everyone could overhear. “Isn’t it weird that Sam’s Dad never shows up for these things? Personally, I think it’s because he’s so strange that not even his family wants to be around him.”

Sam could feel himself flushing again, but didn’t say anything. Josh gave his sister a small push from behind. “Shut up brat.”

Before Grace could retaliate, to Sam’s surprise Tori chimed in, “Maybe his parents have to work a lot. I know mine do, sometimes they can’t come when I have things. I’m sure they’d come if they could.”

Destiny spoke next, also talking like Sam wasn’t standing right behind her. “Parent. Just the one. His Mom died like a long time ago I think.”

Tori turned toward Sam, “I’m sorry about your Mom,”

Sam hated when people brought up his Mom, he didn’t even know how it got out that his Mom was dead as he certainly hadn’t shared that news with anyone but Josh and Josh wouldn’t have said anything. Sam suspected Grace had been eavesdropping.

“It’s okay, I mean – you know not okay that she’s – um, thanks I mean.” Sam stuttered out. Where was Mr. Foster and what was taking him so long?

“Maybe his brother could come,” Grace said, continuing as if no one else had said anything, “He’s really dreamy, and he has the most beautiful eyes, wait until you see. He looks nothing like Sam, he’s like six times cuter and he’s, you know, normal.  Just between you and me I think Sam must have been adopted.”

Sam wondered if it really was a bad thing to hit a girl. If he only did it once –

Thankfully Mr. Foster picked that moment to return to the room and the dry run began.

After practice, Sam snuck out as quickly as he could, promising he’d call Josh later. He knew that Mr. Foster would insist on walking him home along with Grace and Justin, and Sam wanted to avoid that. He was embarrassed by the apartment sure, but he also didn’t want Mr. Foster to suspect that he was staying there by himself. He wasn’t expecting Dad and Dean back before Christmas and he didn’t want anyone asking questions.

He noticed it was snowing when he reached the sidewalk, it was snowing pretty hard and picking up steam. At least he was wearing boots, Sam thought as he started the long trek back, those would help keep him warm.

Sam made a detour into a convenience store to pick up breakfast for the next morning –milk and Twinkies (breakfast of champions).  The falling snow had morphed into a full blown snow storm, visibility was low to non-existent but Sam could see the huddled figure of Mr. Foster in his red wool coat walking past the store with who Sam knew to be Grace and Justin. He stalled for a few more minutes inside, picking up a loaf of bread and a soda to add to the pile before leaving, wanting to ensure that enough time had passed that he wouldn’t be spotted.

At the corner, Sam watched as Mr. Foster waved goodbye to Grace, who was now in front of her home. Sam stepped behind a tree, but thankfully Mr. Foster headed the other way. He watched as Grace knocked the snow off of her hair as she headed to her door, taking off her boots before going inside.    Head down low, he continued his walk and quickly reached the end of the street.  Looking down the side street, he could see Justin approaching his house.  Mr. Foster must have headed back home because Justin was there alone. For some reason, he felt compelled to watch Justin also, who was met on the driveway by his mother.  Justin’s mother was apparently on her way out ((Sam vaguely remembered she was a waitress and worked a lot of night shifts) and Justin and her talked a few moments before she headed for her car.   Justin made his way to the front door.

It was then that Sam saw it, or thought he saw it. There was something in the air behind Justin, not snow, darker and wispier than snow. It looked like it could be – smoke. But there was no fire, and no source of smoke that Sam could see. This smoke – if that was what it was –seemed to follow Justin into the house. For a very long moment, Sam stood trying to decide what to do. He couldn’t really go knock on Justin’s door and tell them he thought Justin was being stalked by smoke, half the school already thought he was a freak and that would just seal his fate. It was probably just an illusion of some kind and even if it wasn’t, what on earth could be sinister about smoke when there was no fire?  Sam really wanted to believe it was probably nothing, but his insides were churning and he was hit by a heavy feeling of guilt.  Making a complete turnaround, he headed back toward Justin’s house.

Sam stood in front of the house for a few moments, but there was no warning sounds coming from inside the house and no indication anything was amiss.  There was also no signs of smoke.   He thought about calling Dean or Dad, but even they would probably think a story about stalking smoke was dumb - so still feeling uneasy, but willing to ignore the feeling, Sam made his way home.

After lunch the next day, Sam and Josh were chatting at their lockers, discussing the upcoming quiz bowl and pretending not to look at the girls who were pretending not to look at them, as they all stood in front of open lockers pretending to look for something, when Sam felt someone touch his shoulder. Instinctively he stiffened and turned around quickly but forced himself to relax when he saw Mrs. Foster standing there. “My double trouble tag team is at it again I see.”

Josh’s only response was to roll his eyes, Sam smiled sheepishly.

 “Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to your Dad about something, but I seem to keep missing him.   I was hoping your family could celebrate Christmas with us.  You’d be doing us a favor if you came, I always cook way too much. There’ll be lots of food that’s bad for you, and we sing carols and if you are lucky we’ll even play charades – which Josh has explained to me is lame so you two can sit in the corner and make fun of everyone else if you wish.  .” Mrs. Foster added.  “I perfectly understand if you guys already have plans, but if you don’t, I really hope y’all come.”

Sam wondered what Mrs. Foster would think if he told her that he knew no Christmas carols and had no idea what charades actually was.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to Dad about it when he gets home, which will be late tonight.  I’m sure he’ll totally go for it.”  When hell freezes over…

They were interrupted by Grace who was all aflush with excitement.  “Did you hear the news?” She asked, and then continued on without giving anyone a chance to respond.  “Justin’s sister has been kidnapped.”

Sam could feel his whole body turn cold.  “When?”

“It happened last night.   Justin’s mother put her to bed around eight and went to work and when she came home this morning, Cinnamon was gone.”

It had been around eight thirty when Sam had watched Justin walk into his house and seen that smoky thing follow him.  He had watched that smoke enter Justin’s home and had done nothing, told nobody.  And now Justin’s sister was gone and it was all his fault.  Sam had seen her once, when he had stopped by to pick up Justin on the way to practice.  Cinnamon was a lively four year old with black hair that had been braided and dark eyes.  Sam remembered thinking that she was going to be really pretty when she grew up.

Sam put his books back into the locker.  “I just thought of something.  I have to go.”

Josh looked at him in confusion.  “Dude, Civics class starts in like five minutes.”

Mrs. Foster turned from comforting Grace who was beginning to wail dramatically in the middle of the hallway.  “Is something wrong Sam?”

“No, I just I just thought of something I have to do.  I’m fine.  I just have to – uh – help Dad with something.”  Sam said stumbling over his words and almost tripping over someone as he backed down the hall.  “I’ll call you later.”  Sam yelled at Josh and then practically ran the rest of the way down the hallway.

Sam rushed through the apartment door, dumping his books and supplies on the dresser and his jacket on the floor as he began his hunt for the research that he and Dad had completed when they first arrived in town.  He searched through closets and on top of end tables before finally locating a pile of loose papers under the bed.  Kneeling on the floor, Sam began the laborious task of sorting through scraps of newspaper articles, handwritten notes, and a few mimeographed copies of police reports that Sam had no idea how Dad had gotten a hold of.

It took a few hours of shifting through way too much paper, but Sam finally had the information organized in a way that made sense to him.  They had looked for patterns or any other indication the disappearances were monster related before dismissing it as ‘not their thing’ but now Sam was pretty sure they missed something.  The children were different ages, different ethnicities, and came from different backgrounds.  Sam tried to filter out everything that was different to find the communality.  They were all under 18 when they disappeared.   They all lived in or went to school in this geographical area.  There was nothing in any of the reports about smoke of course, because why would there be?

Sam knew what he needed to do, but he hated the idea.  The first disappearance was a 7 year old girl named Jodie Tucker, the only daughter of a single parent.  Sam pulled down to his level the enormous phone directory and looked for Tia Turner.  Finding her number, he took a few deep breaths and made the phone call.

“Hello?”  Came a voice on the other end.

“Hello.” Sam echoed.  “This is – um – I was calling about – “His voice was actually squeaking. 

“Who is this?”  Tia Turner asked, she sounded tired and impatient.

Sam panicked and hung up the phone.

Well that went well.

For the next call, he actually wrote himself some notes.  The phone was answered by a Wesley Fisher.

“Hello Mr. Fisher, I have a few questions to ask you about your son’s disappearance.”

“Who is this?”  Asked Mr. Fisher. 

Sam swallowed a few times.  “I go to the same school your son does – did.  I’m doing a report about children who have disappeared.”

“For school?”  Mr. Fisher asked.

Sure, why not.  “Yes sir for school.   So was anyone around at the time Tucker went missing?”

“Look, it’s all in the reports.  Just read the damn newspaper.  He went to school, he went to practice, he walked home with his sister, his sister ran ahead to meet with some friends, and Tucker never made it back home.    Listen, I wish you well on your paper but this isn’t something I like to talk about so – “

“No, I understand,” Sam interjected quickly.  “Just one more thing, did his sister happen to see any –smoke around when he went missing?”

“Smoke?”

“Um, yes sir. “

“Is this your idea of a sick joke?  My son, my beautiful boy is missing and you’re pulling some kind of prank.  You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Mr. Fisher hung up the phone.

Sam sucked at this.

Nobody was going to take him seriously as a teenaged boy, so he was going to have to do something he had never done before, something he had seen his father do several times.

Sam took a few deep breaths and drank half a can of Coke in one large gulp.

He skipped down to the next to last of the disappearances and made the phone call.

He lowered his voice and tried to tall slowly and purposely.  “I’m sorry to bother you Mrs. Hensen but this is Officer Odom on the phone and I have a few follow up questions about this disappearance of your daughter Sydney.”

“Have you heard anything?”  Mrs. Hensen asked.  “I was just about to check in, see if there were any updates.”

“No, sorry, there isn’t any news but I assure you that we are working on finding your daughter and we will leave no stone unturned and none of us will rest until she’s found.”  Overkill thought Sam?  Yup, overkill.   Quickly he moved on.  “When you and your husband checked on your daughter before going to bed, did you see any smoke?”

“Smoke?”  Mrs. Hensen asked.  “Why would we have – wait a minute.   John did mention that he thought there was smoke in the living room earlier that night, but we checked the vents and everything and couldn’t find a source.  We just assumed it was left over smoke from the kitchen from when we were searing some steaks earlier.  What could that possibly have to do with Sydney’s kidnapping?”

“Nothing, probably.  I was just – I’m trying to be thorough.”

Mrs. Hensen was crying.  “I miss her so much.  I miss her every day. She’s all I think about. Earlier that night we were so happy, everything was so – perfect.  We had a dinner party, and all the kids were running around the house playing, Sydney was having the time of her life.  She was the youngest kid there, so she was getting a lot of attention.  She loved attention.  She had Josh following her around like a little puppy dog.”

“Josh – Josh Foster?”  Sam asked.  “The Fosters were there?”

Mrs. Hensen hesitated.  “Yes, but you guys know that already.  You’ve even went over and talked to the Fosters, I know because we attend church together and – “

“Yes, right, I’m sorry, it’s all right here.  I’ve got to go Mrs. Hensen, but thank you so much for the information and – “

Sam quickly hung up the phone, right about the time he realized he had stopped lowering his voice, and had sounded like just what he was – an overexcited fifteen year old boy.

That was awful, he was never going to pretend to be anyone he wasn’t ever, ever again.

But there had been smoke.  He was quite possibly looking for a monster that could turn into smoke.  Sam wished he had Dad’s journal, but of course Dad and Dean had taken it with them on their hunt.  So he went for the next best thing.

“Sam?”  Bobby asked, answering the phone.  He sounded winded, and Sam could the sound of something crashing.  “I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”  There was another crash, a yelp from someone that Sam couldn’t identify and a few choice curse words from Bobby.  “Call you right back.”

Sam hung up the phone and took another look at the names and faces of the missing children, all lined up on the floor.  If it was a monster that took them, it was probably food related.  They weren’t kidnapping children to add to a collection. If the monster was hunting children it had to have a way of picking them out, it had to know which children were vulnerable, which ones they would find alone.  How were these children chosen?  Sam reorganized the children’s files into age order.  The oldest three had been in high school, the same one Sam was currently attending.

Where Mr. Foster taught.   Sam went back over the children again.  Justin was in the quiz bowl team and that last person Sam saw him with was Mr. Foster.  The Fosters had been at the Henson’s home the same night Sydney had disappeared.   It was a good bet that the three high school students that disappeared were either in the quiz bowl or took one of Mr. Foster’s math classes.   It could all be a coincidence – but Sam knew better than to believe in coincidences.

His phone rang.    Bobby sounded much calmer, whatever he had been dealing with must have been dealt with.  “Are you okay?”  Sam asked, just to be sure.

“Well yeah, of course.   But you weren’t calling to check up on me, what’s up?”

“I was just doing some research for Dad and he wanted me to check and see if you knew of a monster that could turn into smoke.  And – um – possibly pass for human.”

“I thought your Dad was hunting a wendigo?”  Bobby asked.

“Yeah, he is.  But they think they might have found something else.”  Sam replied.

Sam wasn’t sure why he was lying about this.  If he told Bobby the truth, Bobby would break all speed records to come here and help.   But he’d also call Dad, and Dad would have to turn around and come back home.  And Sam would have to tell Dad how he let a little girl be taken just because he was too embarrassed to warn the family about the smoke.

He’d just do research, research was his job anyway.  He’d make sure it was Mr. Foster.  He’d find out what kind of monster it was and how to kill it and he’d give the information to Dad and Dean when they came back.  And maybe nobody would ask how he stumbled upon the monster to begin with.

“Nothing I can think of right off the bat.”  Bobby told him.  “Anything else you can give me?”

“Oh yeah, the monster eats children.  At least I – Dad – thinks it does.”

“Okay, that would have probably been something you should have lead with.”  Bobby told him.  “I’ll check my books and call you right back.”

Sam wrote down the dates of the disappearances.  The first two happened three months apart, then six months, a year, if It was a creature feeding on children, the monster had a very unsteady diet.  He and Dad had already searched for a pattern, but there really wasn’t one.  Unless -

If it was Mr. Foster – and if it was, how on earth was he going to face Mrs. Foster and Josh, they had been so good to him, the whole family had been really well maybe except for Grace – then Mr. Foster went out of town a lot for quiz bowls and other math competitions.   If he was killing or eating or whatever he was doing to the children then there should be disappearances in the towns the competitions were held.  In April of every year there was a big championship in St. Louis that was as good of place as any to start.   Sam picked up his coat and headed out to the local library.

Fifteen minutes later, he was being lead to where the microfilm was located.  “What are you looking for?”  Stephanie, the part-time librarian who flirted with absolutely everyone asked.  “I’d love to help if I could.”

“I’m doing a research paper on children who have disappeared.”  Sam said.  “It’s for a class at school and – “

“You are just so full of it.”  Sam turned around to see Grace and Tori behind him.  It was, of course, Grave that was talking.  “There is no paper, you are just curious about this because you are such a freaking freak.”

“He’s writing it for English.”  Tori explained to Grace.  “I’m writing one about school elections, we could pick any current topic we wanted to write about.  It’s for advanced English’s which Sam and I take but you – “

Sam smiled.  It was definitely a sore spot for Grace that she didn’t get into Advanced English,

“Okay, whatever.”  Dismissed Grace.  “We need to head out anyway if we are going to visit Justin’s sister at the hospital.”

“Cinnamon?”  Sam asked, stunned and relieved.  “She’s alive?”

“Yes, but when they did the blood tests they found out she is severely anemic.   That’s why she’s still in the hospital.  They think maybe she has something – hopefully not anything bad.”  Tori informed him. “Isn’t it weird that of all the kids that disappeared in the last few years, so far she’s the only one to come back and now she’s sick?  I hope she’ll be okay.”

“Was she – “Eaten wasn’t quite the word he should use.  “Hurt?”

“Nope, not a scratch on her.  They found her in the front yard, fast asleep.”  Tori informed him as Grace tugged on her sleeve, with an apologetic shrug Tori followed Grace out of the library.

She was still alive.  Sam’s inability to take action hadn’t led to her death after all.  But – if Cinnamon was not what the monster wanted, would the monster be hunting for children again tonight?

“So what was it you were looking for again?”  Stephanie asked.

“Disappearances of children in St. Louis.  Particular around April of this year or last year – “

“Wow.  You probably won’t believe this.”  Stephanie told him, leaning in to whisper.  “But my cousin disappeared there just last year.  In April.”

“Seriously?”  Sam asked.  “Did she live in St. Louis?”

“No, she lived in North Little Rock.  But she was there for some kind of contest, something for nerdy kids…”

“Quiz bowl competition?”  Sam suggested.

“That’s it!”  She said excitedly and then lowered her voice when people reading in nearby tables looked up.  “She left her hotel room to buy snacks in the vending machine and no one has seen her since.”

This was it.  One coincidence too many.  Sam had his man (or rather monster) he knew it now.  The thing is, how could he keep him from killing again before Dad and Dean came back to town?

“I’m sorry about your cousin,” Sam told Stephanie, as his thoughts twirled.

“We weren’t very close,” She confided.  “But I did get my picture on the front page of the Arkansas Gazette.  It was a really good picture of me.”

Sam’s phone went off, and he quickly answered it to silence the ringtone.  Sam mimed to Stephanie that he was going outside.

“Hey Bobby, did you find anything?”  Sam asked, once he was safely on the library steps.

“Well, I can’t be 100% certain, but I think what your dad and brother have found is an Abiku.”

“A – abi-what?”  Sam asked.

“Abiku.  It’s a beast that originated in West Africa and dines on children, it must eat pretty regular to stay – well –regular.  It fits the description, preys at night, can take human form, etc. and so on.”

“Any clue how to kill it?”  Sam asked.

“The lore on this thing is pretty vague.  Maybe I should just give your Dad a call, make sure this is what we are really dealing with.”  Bobby told him.

“No – I mean yon can’t.  Dad and Dean are in the mountains tracking, Dean sent me a text saying they’d be out of range until tomorrow.  I’ll fill them in later.”  Dean had indeed just sent him a text, but it was one extolling the virtues of a blond perky waitress they had encounter at a truck stop.  

“Okay, well then…”  Bobby replied.  “Nothing extremely specific, other than one passage does mention an aversion to iron.  I’d start with that.”

“Okay, gotcha. Thanks Bobby.”  Sam stood watching the sunset.  It was weird how early the day ended in December, but the sunset was pretty – all red and oranges stretching out in the night sky.

“Hey Sam, you aren’t in any kind of trouble are you?”  Bobby asked.  “You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“No, I mean yes, sure Bobby I’d tell you.”  Sam forgot about the sunset as the feeling of panic began again.  If Bobby called Dad –

“Because this monster is pretty serious, nothing a novice should be messing around with.” 

“Novice?  You mean me?  Oh god no, Bobby.  I’m thousand miles away from the thing.  Just being the research guy, as usual.”  Sam tap-danced.

“Good, glad to hear it.  Look, if I find anything else out, I’ll give you a call but it might be a while.  I’m packing up and heading home.”

Sam nodded absently and then remembered Bobby couldn’t see him.  “Okay, don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”  Sam hung up and looked back to the west.  The sun was totally gone, the sky now a bluish black. 

The sun was down.

It was night and the sun was down.

That meant Mr. Foster – or the Abiku – was on the hunt.   Sam had to stop him before he killed anyone else.

Sam was panicking.  He could feel it in his stomach, the way his hands were sweating even though with the sun going down the temperature outside had dipped to freezing   How on earth could he kill –

Think Sam, you consider yourself so damn smart.  Think.

He didn’t have to kill it, he just had to contain it until Dad and Dean came back.  Of course, he might have to confess to them, but it would be worth it for that thing to be killed and for other children to be safe.  He just had to trap it and wait.

A half-baked idea began to form.  It was reckless as hell, but Dean always said reckless was what it took to get the job done.  Sam took off for the apartment in a jog, there was no time to waste.

Sam felt time slipping by as he rushed into his apartment and headed into the kitchen to arrange his very un-fool-proof plan.   Several minutes later, still sweating and nervous as hell, Sam picked up the phone and called Mr. Foster.

“Hello?”  Mr. Foster asked.  He sounded angry, which was quite unlike him.  Of course, maybe he was just hungry.

“Hi, Mr. Foster.  It’s Sam.”  Sam began.

Mr. Foster’s voice softened.  “Sam, we missed you in class today.  I’m afraid Josh is out of the house right now, but I can leave him a message that you called.”

“No, actually I wanted to speak to you, well Dad does.”  Sam noticed that irritating squeaking noise was creeping into his voice again.  “He was wondering if you could drop by.”

“Now?”  Mr. Foster said.  “I am kind of in the middle of something.”  He paused, and Sam was trying to come up with a reason this was an emergency when Mr. Foster sighed.  “Actually, I wouldn’t mind getting out of the house right about now.  Tell your Dad I’ll be there in about an hour.”

Sam hung up the phone and looked around.  He was about as ready as he ever was going to be.  His heart was pounding and he was so nervous he couldn’t sit and he couldn’t stand still.  He paced over and over again that small living room, rehearsing what he was going to say and revising and finally deciding it didn’t matter what he said anyway.  All he had to do was get Mr. Foster contained. 

Finally, after an eternity, there was a knock on the door.  It was do or die time.  Sam took in a few very shaky breaths and opened the door.

Mr. Foster walked in, right over the chalk line.  So an Abiku was immune to salt, Sam made a mental note knowing that Dad would want that information.

Mr. Foster shrugged off his red coat and looked around.  Normally Sam would have been embarrassed by the tiny shabby apartment with the holes in the couch and the thread-bare carpet, but not today.  Today he was going to help rid the world of a monster.

“Where is your Dad?”  Mr. Foster asked.  “I am really looking forward to finally meeting him.”

“I am sure he’s really looking forward to meeting you too,” Sam replied, smiling at the thought.  “But he’s not actually here right now.”  
  
Mr. Foster looked confused.  “I don’t understand.”

“I wanted you to come over because I wanted you to know that I know.”  Sam told him.  There, not exactly like he rehearsed it but at least he had gotten it out.

“Know?” Mr. Foster asked, looking even more confused.  “Know what?”

Okay maybe he hadn’t quite gotten it out after all.  “I know what you are.  I know what you did – do.  I know about everything.  And I am telling you that it ends now, tonight.”

Mr. Foster paled and he began to look as sweaty as Sam.  “How do you - ?”

“I just do.  I mean, did you really think you were going to get by with it forever?  No one else is going to get hurt because of you.”  Sam said, the angrier he got, thinking of all those children, the more the fear left him.  He could do this.  He really could.

“Listen, son,” Mr. Foster stated taking a few steps toward Sam.  Sam instinctively took a few steps back.  Mr. Foster stopped walking.  “Let’s talk about this.  I know you are upset with me, but think of everyone that will be hurt if you tell – “

“If I tell?”  Sam asked.  “What about the children that will be hurt if I don’t?  I am going to stop you and my Dad is going to make sure you never hurt anyone ever again.”

There was that look of confusion again.  “Thomas and I have never hurt anyone…”  Mr. Foster began.

It was Sam’s time to be confused.  “Thomas?   Mr. Betts the English teacher?”

“Yes, we’ve been tog – “Mr. Foster stopped in mid-sentence and looked back at Sam. “Who did you think we were talking about?”

“Cinnamon.  Jordan.  Sydney. Jodie.  Tucker.  All those kids that you hurt, probably killed.”   Sam listed.

“I’ve never hurt – “Mr. Foster started and then stopped.  “I would never hurt – I mean, I know it was wrong to hide our relationship but when they found out I was gay back in Texas I lost my job, I lost everything.  And then Sybil came along and she was so understanding – I know we’ve lied to everyone, but I would never hurt anyone, especially not a child.  Sam, you have to believe me.”

Sam looked at Mr. Foster, who looked very unmonster-like with a sincere expression on his face and actual tears in his eyes.  “I don’t understand.     I saw you with Grace and Justin right before Cinnamon was taken.  And there were those kids that disappeared in St. Louis when you were there, and those kids that were in your class.  It was you, I know it was.”

“Sam, I literally have no idea what you are talking about.” Mr. Foster’s look of concern was replaced by a look of horror.  Suddenly there was blood, lots of it, and as Sam looked at him uncomprehending, Mr. Foster’s neck began to wobble and then teeter back and forth before finally leaving his body completely and landing with a sickening thud on the floor.  Sam stood there in shock, unable even to scream.  Behind Mr. Foster’s falling body, Mrs. Foster stood with the biggest smile Sam had ever seen on her face.

“I do.”  Mrs. Foster told Sam with that malicious smile as the claw on her hand retracted back to a normal fingernail.   Sam looked at her in revulsion as she stepped over Mr. Foster’s body and closer to him. “Know what you are talking about,” She added, as if she sensed Sam was having trouble following the conversation.  “And by the way, it was me you saw in my dear departed husband’s red coat, I was the one who walked little Justin and Grace home last night.”

Sam thought back to the night before.  It was snowing like crazy but he was sure he had seen Mr. Foster.  He hadn’t seen his face of course, because of the hood but – it had to have been –

“Yeah, I’m going to give you a minute to catch up.”  Mrs. Foster took off her black coat revealing a slinky black cocktail dress underneath.  Sam couldn’t help but stare, he had never seen Mrs. Foster in anything like that before.  “Like my dress?”  She asked with a giggle that unnerved Sam. “You do, I can tell.  Let me tell you my boy, you have no idea how happy I am to finally get out of those Mom clothes.  You see, I was packing my bags when you called, I am pretty sure I’ve worn out my welcome here.”  Mrs. Foster put one of her snow boots on the table, still dripping with Mr. Foster’s blood, and began tugging it off. “You see Peter was beginning to get suspicious, it took him long enough.  For a math genius, the man wasn’t very bright.”  The boot had come off and she plopped the other one on the table.  They were both so filled with Mr. Foster’s blood that the blood was leaking out over the table onto the faded gray carpet.  Sam was trying very hard not to gag.  “And last night started out so well.  When I heard that Justin’s sister was named Cinnamon, how could I resist her? But once I got her home, I realized she wouldn’t do at all.  There’s something wrong with that girl, she’s infected with some kind of sickness, and I have to watch what I eat.”  Mrs. Foster patted her flat stomach.  “So I had to put her back and now I’m hungry, past hungry, and Peter comes into my room asking loaded questions about why I was so keen on walking Justin home and things were about to get really ugly when you called.“

Sam was trying hard to focus on what she was saying, but it was kind of hard to do with Mr. Foster’s head five feet away from him, his blank eyes staring right at Sam.  “You were going to kill your children’s father?”

“Not my children.  And he’s not their father. I bought them from mothers on drugs, crack mostly.  Christy was particularly cheap, I think I got her for under $20.  For a while back in Texas, that’s how I got my meals.  If you buy them, no one is going to report them missing.  But it became messy, and more than half the kids I bought turned out to have diseases. Josh, Grace and Christy – all are flawed – asthma for the oldest two, Christy has childhood diabetes. Since I haven’t exactly been treating it she should be dead soon.  So I used them as decoys, they led me to the kids that I could eat. I could hide out in the open, just a single mother taking her kids to school functions and play dates and ballgames. There was food everywhere, just ripe for the taking. Everything was going a-okay until I got greedy and took two of Grace’s little playmates instead of just one.  Next thing I knew there were hunters in the area.  Yes, Sam I know about hunters.  And yes I know your Dad is one.  Not a good one apparently, or I wouldn’t still be here, but hey let’s thank our lucky stars he’s not.  Anyway, Pete here gets fired from his job for being gay, he’s crying on my shoulder boo hoo, and I convince him to marry me, adopt the brats and move here. And you know the rest.”

Sam tried to soak all that in but it was hard.  Somewhere in his overstimulated brain he seized on one statement. “My Dad is a great hunter, so is my brother.”

“Then I guess I’m better at what I do.” Mrs. Foster stood and stretched, she was now wearing nothing but the little cocktail dress, which covered very little.  Mrs. Foster was practically purring as she made her way to Sam, She reached out and stroked his hair, the same way Sam had seen her do to Josh several times, Sam pulled away.  “Speaking of which, I have a proposition for you, my golden little boy.”

“Stay away from me.”  Sam told her, pushing at her but getting nowhere.  She was pretty solid for a five foot three 115 pound woman – er – monster.

“That’s not what you really want is it Sam?” She was still talking in that strange husky voice.  “You know, you were the most desperate teenager I have ever met and considering I’ve lived 500 odd years and counting, that’s saying something.  You were like a little puppy, following me around, wagging that cute little tail of yours when I gave you some attention.   Every time I asked you about your day, anytime I pretended to be the least bit interested in you, you practically glowed with happiness.  In your own way, you are just as hungry as I am Sam.”  She was whispering in his ear, playing with his hair.  Every fiber In Sam’s being was squirming.  “So I need a new family and I can be the mother that you always wanted.  What do you say Sam, do you want me to make all your Christmas wishes come true?”

“I would never go anywhere with you.”  Sam told her. “You are a monster, and no matter how pretty you dress yourself up, you will never be anything but.”

“Okay then.”  Mrs. Foster’s whole attitude changed and she stood in front of him unsmiling.  “Plan B.”

Sam was getting very nervous, he had a pretty good idea what plan B was.  “My Dad and brother will be home any minute.”

Mrs. Foster smiled.  “Liar.”

Her fingernails were turning into claws again. Sam took a few steps back and reached blindly behind him for the bedroom door. Finding the knob, he ducked inside the room just as Mrs. Foster’s claws made a grab for him.  His hands were shaking so much it was difficult, but he managed to quickly lock the door.

He could hear Mrs. Foster laugh from the other room. “Really?”  She asked.  “You really think a door can stop me?  Some hunter you are.”

Sam watched as the smoke began to drift from under the door, the smoke seemed to be a live thing, writhing and reforming in different shapes as the last of the smoke made its way into the room. When the smoke began to elongate, becoming human shape, Sam reached over and turned on the fan.  He smiled in satisfaction (and relief) as the smoke filtered backwards into the refrigerator.  As soon as the last of the smoke was forced into the open doors Sam quickly slammed the refrigerator shut. “Got you’” He shouted.  “The refrigerator is made of iron, you aren’t going anywhere until Dad comes home.”  He could hear pounding inside of the refrigerator. He was going to have to find locks and chains to make sure it stayed locked up tight, but it should hold the few days it would take Dad to get back.

And then he turned around, and there was smoke floating in front of him, much less smoke than what had come from under the door, but still smoke.  Somehow some of the smoke had escaped the fan.  He watched in dismay as Mrs. Foster formed in front of him or rather tried to form.  There wasn’t enough of her left to form a whole person, just a part of one.  She looked like the monster she was, her eyes were gone, she had only a few strands of hair on the bits of  her head that remained, the entire back of the head was missing.  She had legs, but most of her stomach was gone and she only had one arm .It was the most grotesque thing Sam had ever seen.

“Open the door, let me out.”  She rasped.  Her voice sounded funny, as if coming from inside of a tunnel.

“So you can put Humpty Dumpty back together again and then eat me?”  Sam asked.  “Not going to happen.”

“Oh I’m going to eat you all right.”  Even though some of her fingers were gone, they were still forming a claw.  Sam stood frozen watching it.  “The only question is, do I eat you fast or do I eat you slow?  Do you know how long a child can last Sammy with just tiny bits of him taken at a time because I do.  It’s a long, long time.”

So plan B.  Except there was no plan B.  How could he put himself in this situation and have no plan B?  He could hear his phone ringing in the other room, but he’d never make it back there in time.  His eyes were searching the bedroom, looking for another source of iron. The bedsprings would be, but there was no effective way to entrap her there.  He had backed up against the dresser and his hands were frantically searching for an object, anything that he could use as a weapon.  The first thing his fingers touched were the school books and supplies he had left earlier in the day.

Unbidden, his father’s words of a few days ago came back again - If only he could kill someone with his studies -

The pen.

“There’s nowhere to hide Sam,” Mrs. Foster was facing  him, even though she had no eyes she was still effectively tracking him  “You are going to make an excellent –wait, there’s something wrong. There’s something in - “

Sam had managed to get the spring out of the pen and without thinking, flung it in her mouth as she was talking.  She gasped, and then made a choking sound.  Sam was afraid she was going to spit it back out, it was so small surely it couldn’t contain enough iron to do any real damage.  Already he was looking for something bigger.  As Mrs. Foster’s claw reached for him, scratching his arm, he could hear someone banging on the door.  She tightened her grip, gouging a hole in his arm, but she was now making a strange rasping sound.  There was still someone pounding on the front door, and to his side the pounding in the refrigerator picked up volume and intensity.  She was drawing him to her, she was going to eat him after all and there was nothing he could do about it.  And then just as Sam heard the front door being kicked in, Mrs. Foster took her claw out of his arm, put it to her own throat and then -exploded.   There was a green slimy substance everywhere, all over him, the floor, and the bed.  Green slime was pouring out of the refrigerator. 

Bobby came rushing in, gun in hand.  It took him only a few seconds to assess the situation before he lowered the gun.  “Son, I don’t think green’s your color.”

Fifteen minutes later Sam had cleaned himself up (and to his great shame, threw up) and had explained to Bobby what happened.  Bobby, it turned out, had been in the Ozarks in Arkansas dealing with a poltergeist and had high-tailed it Sam’s way after realizing Sam was in trouble  Which, he informed Sam, a two-year could have figured out, Sam was such a damned poor liar.

Bobby looked at the front room covered in blood and at the bedroom with the refrigerator crammed in and the green slimy substance over everything.  “Your Dad is going to find a way to blame me for this.”

“Do we have to tell him?” Sam ventured. “I mean, all’s well that ends well right?”  He managed a very weak smile.  He could imagine what his dad reaction would be to all of this, and imagining was enough, he didn’t want to live through it.

“Normally, I would never encourage you to lie to your Dad,” Bobby told him.  “But this is your hunt, and you get to decide who knows what.”

Sam’s phone rang, Dean was on the other line.

“Hey Dean give me a second.”  Sam held his hand over the phone and watched as Bobby made his way to the door.  “Where are you going?” He whispered.

“Well looks like you got this under control and I got me a date with a steak.”  Bobby told him.  “Just do me a favor and try not to get into any more trouble until your Dad come s back.”

And he was gone.  Sam looked back at the shut door stunned.  He had a dead body in the front room, a lot of very sticky goo in the bedroom, and three children without parents waiting at the Fosters’ house.  What kind of control did Bobby think he had?

He had almost forgot he had Dean on the phone.  “Sorry, I was just- “

“Studying I know.  Look, I just wanted to be sure you were doing okay.”

“Yeah, sure, fine.”  Sam took a towel from the floor of the bathroom and put it over Mr. Foster’s head. There that was better.

“Something’s off with you.  What’s wrong?”  Dean asked.

“Nothing, everything’s fine.  I’m fine.  Really.”

“Sammy,” Dean said.  “Do I need to get Dad on the phone to get it out of you?”

“Nothing really, it’s just – “Sam’s mind frantically went on a search.  “I think I may have made a C on my Civic mid-term – “

Dean laughed.  “Seriously dude, you need a life.  I was just calling to tell you it doesn’t look like we’ll make it back until after Christmas.  This wendigo has made its way up into high ground, there’s a lot of territory to cover.  I really hate you being alone at Christmas, Sam.  If there is any way we can get this bastard sooner, I’ll floor it to make it back in time.”

“Dean, I can be by myself for Christmas.  It’s not like it’s any big deal anyway.”  

“You used to think so.”  Dean replied, and Sam detected sadness in his voice.  “Hey I do have good news for you.  Dad said you can go on our next hunt, really go and not stay in the car.  And you have me, your awesome brother to thank for that.”

Sam never wanted to hunt anything ever again, period. It was too scary, too messy, and it hurt too damn much.  But he knew he couldn’t tell Dean that without Dean knowing there was something wrong.  “You are awesome, thanks Dean.”

“Ok gotta go, good luck again in your little contest.”

Sam looked down at Mr. Foster’s headless body on the floor, “I’m pretty sure it’s been cancelled.”

Dean said his goodbyes and hung up.   Sam fought an urge to call him back, tell him everything, beg him to forget about the wendigo and head back here but he couldn’t.  Sam battled back unmanly tears as he tried to figure out what his next step was.

The door opened and Bobby returned hands full of cleaning supplies and plastic bags.  He took one look at Sam and laughed.  “You should see the look on your face.  If you haven’t figured out yet that I will always be here when you need me, then you are more of an Idjit than I ever gave you credit for.”

“I knew you’d be back.” Sam responded, doing a piss poor job of keeping the relief out of his voice.

“Right,” Bobby teased, before getting down to business. “Okay, here’s the plan.  I’ll take Mr. Foster and dispose of him, you don’t need to know how.  You bag up what’s left of the Abiku and put the bags in my trunk.  Might want to return the refrigerator back to the kitchen while you’re at it.  I’ll make an anonymous call while I’m out, make sure someone picks up the Foster kids.  We get all that taken care of and then you are coming home with me.  I ain’t letting you spend Christmas alone. It might not be a Hallmark Christmas but I’m gonna set you up with a hell of a steak dinner, some old westerns and maybe some ice cream later if you are damned good.  So what do you say?  Is it a plan?”

Sam smiled back at Bobby, so relieved that he could feel it in his bones.  “It’s a plan.”

Outside the window, the two girls silently lowered back down to the ground and took off full speed for the park nearby.

“Oh my God,” Destiny said to Tori.  “I mean, oh my God Tori.  Mrs. Foster- and –she turned into that – and Sam with the fan and the – wait til I tell Grace about her parents.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”  Tori replied.  The park was dark, deserted, and the snow was frozen beneath their feet.

“Why not?”  Destiny asked, turning to face her friend.

“Because this is just not your lucky day.”  Tori pulled a knife out of her pocket with one hand and grabbed Destiny with the other.  “Sorry kid, but I have a very important phone call to make.”

**THE END**

 

 


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